Returning Something
by GrayWolf555
Summary: Memories fade, usually from time, but occasionally for other reasons. Anko gets back what was taken from her in the war. KakaAnko. Oneshot. M for a reason. Just some good, old fashioned smut.


Anko heard feet land on the ledge of her open window, and the rustling of her dark curtains. She had been wondering if he would show. Initially, she was sure of it. The look he shot her at the service earlier was not one that was easily misinterpreted. But it was late, later than usual, so she began to doubt her own perception of the day's events. Her question had been answered now. The look in his eye meant exactly what she thought it did. Time had not changed that.

"You're late," she said, still laying on her bed, back to the man in her window, too lazy to move quite yet.

She received nothing in response. He was not there to talk, that Anko knew. When was the last time this happened? A year ago, maybe two? She knew he had been busy with his genin team. She never saw him at the bar anymore, only catching a glimpse of him occasionally at Ichiraku with Naruto, and sometimes the pink-haired girl tagged along.

The last time he visited her, whenever that was, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. They chatted a bit, and after the conversation died down, their time together became what it always was: a furious, primal affair of naked, sweaty, perfect shinobi bodies, releasing the stress from their work the only way they knew how. Her and Kakashi had little in common, this she knew, but their preferred means of escape from their world of violence was shared. Some shinobi found hobbies, others drank, they fucked. Crazy, intense, mind-bending sex, treating every time like it was their last, because it very well could be. After that night, she had no reason to think anything had endangered their rather pleasurable status quo. But he got Team 7 shortly after, and he stopped appearing in her window. She never asked him about it. She thought it better to let it go than to chase a man she knew had no interest in being caught.

But here he was again. It was surely what transpired that day that led him back to her. She rolled over, sat up, and placed her bare feet on her cold hardwood floor. She stood, took a few steps toward the man on her windowsill, and drank in the scene.

He was still in his funeral blacks, even though the service had ended by afternoon, and it was after midnight. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, betraying the hurt hidden within his otherwise spry crouch. His headband was not covering his Sharingan eye, something he would often do when with her. She never asked why, though she knew it drained him, and he never mentioned it. He hopped down into her apartment, standing up straight, but not venturing forward. The pain on his face was obvious, even with his mask still on.

Anko had been thinking about him a lot lately, worrying about him. Asuma's death was sudden and unexpected, even knowing the dangerousness of Akatsuki. If a ninja were to fall at their hands, few in the Leaf could be surprised. But Asuma? He was one of their top shinobi, and an absolute terror in battle. Anko had seen this for herself. Everyone thought that those cigarettes would end his life eventually, never an enemy. And the life he left behind...Kurenai, their unborn child, it was beyond tragic. Few knew of the true circumstances, but she and Kakashi did, and the hurt was magnified tenfold. They were not only crying over the loss of one of their best friends, but crying over the beautiful life he and Kurenai had started that would never be.

Anko was scared that this would finally break her Copy Ninja, the added name on the epitaph that would push him over the edge. She didn't know how he would react. Anger was unlikely, she knew. All his anguish he internalized. She was afraid he would withdraw from world, possibly give up his headband, and bury himself alone in a place far from the village. As heartbroken as she was to look at his face tonight, she couldn't help but rejoice at the fact he was still here, still in Konoha, and still willing to be around those close to him.

Kakashi was still frozen in place, rigidly upright, though his eyes remained trained on the kunoichi. Anko was also still wearing her clothes from the service, a jet-black yukuta with matching obi. While traditional, the yukuta was cut very slim, snug enough to tastefully hint at the beautiful body underneath. While he still could not muster the will to move just yet, he could feel his pulse quickening. Kakashi was still confused and upset, struggling to process the loss of his friend. Despite the morbid frequency with which he was forced to deal with death and loss, he never became good it. And the circumstances surrounding Asuma's end made it that much harded to bear. He didn't want to think about it anymore tonight. That's why he was standing in Anko's place, seeking relief in the form of her affection. By the look of things, she seemed to be willing to gift him what he needed to make it though until morning.

Any fear that he would be rebuked by the lovely raven-haired woman in front of him disappeared when he saw her untie her obi and let it drop to the floor. She opened her yukuta, revealing a black lace bra and matching panties as the only things covering her toned yet supple figure. Rolling her shoulders back in what may have been the most seductive gesture Kakashi had ever seen, Anko let her yukuta begin to fall. He watched in awe as it gently slid down her arms, watching the black material pool at her delicate feet. In that moment, all doubt regarding his late night rendevous with his former love was erased. She was a dark goddess, a creature sent to create lust in the even the most strong-willed of men. Kakashi would take her, consume her, drink every last drop of her, and would deal with the regret in the morning. He would give in to her one last time.

Her figure slinked towards him, and he recognized the beautiful lines her pale skin cut into the darkness. Her shoulders were broad and strong, and her figure tapered into a narrow waist, only to expand out again at her beautiful hips. Her thighs were thick with muscle, but it did not take away an ounce of her femininity. Following farther down her legs, she had toned calves and dainty feet, giving her a grace to her movements that she retained even in the most heated battle. Kakashi's eyes wandered back up to the wonder that were her breasts. Soft and full, they nearly spilled out of the lace, and he his fingers trembled with want, the desire to touch them and free them from their silky black prison was damn near overwhelming.

He was still hesitant, though. As gorgeous as Anko was, he knew that this physical passion, this shared lust, was all there would ever be between them. Kakashi understood that he could never let anyone in, not allow them to be as close to him as they wanted, and deserved, to be. He did not know if that would ever change, but he knew, as he stood tonight, his inner world was still locked away. He would be giving his body, but that was all. He didn't know any other way.

Before he knew it, the time for reflection had ended. Anko was pressed up against him now, delicate fingers raising to the black cloth on his face. He let her pull it down as he had so many times before, and watched her eyes draw closed as she pressed her lips to his.

Anko felt a chill run through her as she felt him place his hands on her hips, softly holding her while their kiss continued. She couldn't notice that this was...different. Nothing about his movements were aggressive, and his lips caressed her own in a gentleness that was entirely foreign to their previous encounters. His hands slid up her bare sides, fingers tracing her slowly, as if her was memorizing the feel of her skin. She was uncomfortable with the changes, expecting him to come at her like an uncaged animal, assaulting her body with the recklessness she was used to. Standing there in her underwear, tingling from his light touches, she felt vulnerable, exposed. Even though the man pressed against her had seen every inch of her body countless times, she felt as if it was the first all over again.

Kakashi had been her first, and she his. The sex lives of shinobi were not nearly as exciting as the civilians tend to think. Yes, they all seemed to possess lean, scupted bodies, and drip a certain virility and strength that made the villagers assume that all they did in their offtime was knock boots with each other. The truth was far more mundane. They worked long, irregular hours, and most of the little free time they had was devoted to training so they didn't get killed on the next mission. Death always weighed heavy on them, giving them pause when it came to serious romance. And the complex web of working relationships made inter-shinobi dating frowned upon, not to mention dangerous. This was one of the reasons that she and Kakashi had kept their affair concealed, and why, to the best of her knowledge, they had only been with each other. It was too much effort to juggle multiple secret trysts, and Kakashi hardly seemed like the type to be interested in such exertion. Anko couldn't really see him allowing himself to be exposed and open to someone else, as is required by intimacy. But she may just be talking herself into that opinion to feel better about herself.

Still, in the moment, she felt as if she was kissing a different man. Not better or worse, just not the same. He immediately proved her theory right, continuing to act out of character. His arms slowly criss-crossed and locked around her back, allowing him to gently lift her off the ground. He executed the move without any urgency, maintaining the romantic and methodical pace he had set for them. Anko instictively threw her arms around his neck, running her fingers through his silver hair, and once raised, wrapped her bare legs around his hips. They stayed like this for several seconds, all without letting their mouths break the rhythm they had so expertly developed.

Kakashi began to move them towards the bed, his steps slow and steady, his grasp of the woman snug but not aggressive. He laid her down softly, leaning up and away to look at her. Her hair was down and splayed out over her pillows. He was surprised at the funeral to see her locks unbound, but was pleased with the results. Her hair loose and flowing took the edge off her persona, making her look sensual and inviting. It was a side she rarely showed, but he wondered why she would keep such a magnetic look for only special occasions. Still in her underwear, the normally fearless Anko bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. Was she nervous? That seemed out of character. If she was, he thought, it was time he put her at ease.

Watching him climb onto the bed and take his place, kneeling and sitting up next to her bent and held-together legs, he slowly peeled his shirt of. She was glad he was showing a little more skin. Part of Anko's feelings of vulnerability stemmed from her lack of clothing compared to his. And her Kakashi was a sight to behold. Her tenativeness started to fade as her hands moved to his toned stomach, stroking the exposed muscles before her. After allowing her to enjoy his body for a moment, he slowly grabbed her top leg that was resting atop the other, and slowly swung it to the other side, opening her up to him. He leaned down on to her, and she locked her legs around him, never wanting his warmth to leave. He continued his descent, beginning to plant kisses up and down her neck, receiving panting and moans in return.

Anko's breath quickened. Whatever had caused him to act this way she was now greatful for. His soft touches and the slow passion with which he traced her neck made her feel so amazingly good. As fun as the rough, urgent sex they had shared before had been, this experience was much more fulfilling. She felt safe, and desired, and whole. For the first time in her life, she was feeling like a real woman. Anko pulled him tighter to her wanting body, and she wondered if she would ever let go. She could feel one of his hands sliding down to her panties, tugging at the lace strip, begging permission to free her. He would not be left wanting. She pushed him up off her to expedite the process. Anko, now sitting up, reached her hands around her back to unlatch her bra, removing it in one smooth motion and depositing it on the floor. Before Kakashi could react, her fingers were under the sides of her black lace bottoms, and her legs were pulled deftly into the air as she slid them up and off. She laid back on to the bed, and her eyes fell down to the growing bulge under his black pants. Her hand slipped up his thigh, cradling and rubbing the object of her more base desires.

Kakashi threw his head back and let out a groan, arms hanging limp at his sides. Her rubbing of him made him cross-eyed with desire, seeking a release he could only find in her arms. Anko's other hand joined the first, now sliding up to undo his latch and zipper. Suddenly he was sprung, and he could feel her tugging off his bottoms, anxious to start the real show. He obliged her, gracefully hopping off the bed with agility befitting a shinobi and ditched everything from the waist down before climbing back onto the waiting woman, not wanting to separate from her touch a second longer than necessary.

Once on her again, his member hardened to the point of pain as it grazed the soft skin of her thigh. As ready as he was to take all of her, he hadn't yet done enough to allow himself the privilege. He leaned down and began kissing her collarbone, following them to her center, and after a few licks of her beautiful, exposed neck, his lips started to trace down between her breasts. Just as he first sucked on her little pink nipples, he felt her fingers wrap around his shaft and slowly lurch foward and back. His concentration was blown, and his head fell down against her soft breast as he exhaled hard, trying not to lose it so early.

Anko saw and felt his reaction, pleased with her work and turned on beyond measure. As erotic as his touch and kisses had been, she was past the point of foreplay. And if he wasn't, too bad. Her being this level of wound up was his fault anyway, with the unanticipated demonstration of his romantic side stoking the flames. She planted a hand on his chest and slowly eased his body backward.

"I need you. All of you. Right now." she murmured soft and slow, in between stolen breaths.

Kakashi got the hint, and did not dawdle. His hand slid down to length, and he rubbed the tip over her sopping wet opening. Feeling just how ready she was, he guided himself into her, into the soft passage he knew so well. He plunged slow and deep, and once he was in to the hilt, he lowered himself on to a waiting Anko. He slid his arms underneath her shoulders and placed his forehead on to her, staring deep into her mid-grey eyes. She placed her hands on his ass and began to guide him, but without breaking their visual connection. And slowly be started to slide his soaked member in and out of wet, inviting folds.

Anko's brain and body were both set ablaze by his actions. Waves of pleasure flooded her with every thrust, and he inner muscles melded to him in a reaction they were familiar with. She dug her fingernails into his back as she choked back a scream, failing to process the overwhelming feeling of making love instead of just fucking. Her legs hooked the back of his thighs, daring him to stop.

But the eyes. She was locking in a stare with his mismatched eyes, and fumbling in her attempts to both interpret them and appreciate the unbridled pleasure filling her body. Why was he doing this? Gazing into him, and he into her, was so shockingly intimate, a move not designed for late-night casual encounters. Not that she was complaining. The visual stimili he was giving her was compounding her feelings tenfold, making her feel a way she never knew sex had the power to bring out. As she mentally focused on the way he felt inside her, moving steady and slow, alternately filling her and leaving her craving, she realized she was already on the brink.

Kakashi was lost in the moment, his stomach almost aching at the crazy feelings of pleasure he was creating. He was proud of himself; this was no quick, cheap fuck, and he was finally treating Anko the way she deserved. It also helped that he was over the moon, never realizing that passion didn't only come hard and fast. Focusing on making her feel good had enhanced his own enjoyment of the act, allowing him to drink in every twich, every writhe, every moan. She had never felt this good before, and he could barely stand it. He stayed the course, however, not wanting to deprive either of them. He continued to slide into her, pausing once she had taken it all, allowing him to feel all the soft, wet muscles of her tunnel gently tighten around him. And the quick breath he elicited, followed by the scratching of nails on what was surely his already torn up back, signaled that she seemed to like his new style as well.

Anko broke their eye contact and smashed her lips to his, pulling her arms off his back and in between them, only to plant he hands firmly on each side of his face, forbidding his mouth to leave hers. Kakashi's new-found mobility allowed his pace to quicken, beginning to pound his member into her body with fresh force.

"Harder!" she squealed, in the split second she freed her lips. Anko followed it with a muffled, " Don't you dare fucking stop!" instructing the Copy Ninja without the hassle of stopping what may have been the most intense kiss of both of their lives.

He took her words to heart and let the gloves come off, slamming into her wildly, drunk with passion, completely lost in the overpowering moment. He then heard her let out of blood-curdling shriek as he felt her passage clamp down on his thrusting member, almost locking it in its exact place.

Anko opened her eyes as the orgasm shook her. He vision started to blur and she lost control of her arms as they squeezed Kakashi's neck with inhuman strength. Her lower half was spasming, but her man made sure that his length did not leave her, which made her reaction significantly more intense. Right as his flailing hips began to slow, she heard a groan against her neck, and felt him stiffen within her. She pulled him even tighter, wanting him close as she felt his seed fill her insides. He squeezed her back, pouring his warmth out for her to feel. With a final mighty thrust, he finished, with her having taken him all the way down, a depth she had never felt before. Eyes still wide and her grip tight, she exhaled. Remember to breath, Anko. Remember to breathe.

Hours later, Anko awoke, still tangled with a naked Kakashi, locked in the same position they ended in. What was going on? He never stayed. Not that she minded, and she took the opportunity to breath deeply his scent and pull his warm body closer than it already was. And then it struck her.

He was saying goodbye.

The closed-off man had never opened himself like this to her before, never touched her with the gentle passion she just experienced, and never gifted her the loving gaze she had reveled in all night. He never showed his true colors, never let her in until he knew it was the very end. In every caress, he was asking forgiveness. He was atoning for the way he had treated her, finally giving up what she truly craved before he broke her heart.

Silly man. Always feeling guilty. Always living with regret. She could never change that.

She thought her epiphany would bring tears to her eyes, but they never came. She had long ago let go of the hope of taming him, making him hers in any meaningful way. Instead, she was grateful that he finally allowed her to be with him fully, even if it was sparked by a funeral and only lasted one night. He was her first, and she his, but that seemed inconsequential compared to what had just transpired. He had let someone in. Even if he never came back to her window, she was at peace.

As she drifted back to sleep, she understood that the next time she woke, he would be gone, and he would not be coming back. But he had given love, and more importantly, allowed himself to receive it. That was something Anko could take pride in. This was how the broken man says goodbye. She would be okay. She just prayed he would be as well.

Anko blinked hard, startled by the man across from her. Kakashi was leaning back in the booth, both eyes fixed on her, headband off and on the table. She looked around, and saw that they were in a bar, still disoriented over what just happened. His face was sad and serious, and she knew he had something to do with her confusion.

"Kakashi, what the hell did you just do?" she blurted, still trying to find her bearings.

"I simply returned to you something that was yours." he said, with no hint of humor in his voice.

"Returned... Are you saying that actually happened? That it was a memory?" Anko was still struggling to separate dream from reality.

Kakashi turned his gaze away from the flustered woman, his eyes showing an eerie calm. His voice was steady and slow.

"Yes. That was from the night of Asuma's funeral. It was the last night we saw each other...like that."

"Oh," she said, still processing her new knowledge. "I see."

Anko paused, her eyes growing distant.

"Who told you?" she said plainly.

"Ibiki. He mentioned that the drugs Kabuto used on you during the war had effects on your memory, and that the two years leading up to your abduction were almost entirely missing."

Anko didn't say a word. Kakashi took it as an invitation to continue.

"And when my retrieval team found you in that cave, you mentioned that if your memory didn't return, I had to give you the memories I had of us that were lost."

He paused.

"Then you called me a piece of shit. Right after that, you yanked down my mask and kissed me. Then you immediately passed out," Kakashi finished, small smirk cracking under the black fabric. "Genma was very confused."

Anko let out a large exhale, and let a soft chuckle escape.

"Now that sounds a bit more like me," she offered. "So just the once?" she asked, voice tenative.

"Just the once," he replied.

She nodded, going quiet. Kakashi reached down to retrieve his headband.

"Well, thank you Kakashi, but if that's all of it, I think I should get going now." Anko said.

Kakashi nodded again.

"Yes, it is getting late. I'll walk you out." he said, as he rose and offered her his hand.

They made their way through the bar and out into the night. They began walking, and while not touching each other, their bodies were close enough to betray their previous relationship. Both were silent as they strolled along the dirt road, eventually coming to Anko's building.

They both stopped, and Kakashi turned to face her.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi stated softly, hand dug deep into his pockets and his lone eye focused on the woman in front of him.

"It's fine," Anko returned, seeking to soothe his worries. "I can understand how it's not something you can really explain to someone before it happens. It's best to just do it, and fill them in later. I wouldn't have known how to bring up my memory loss either."

Anko could see her words were not helping ease his guilt.

"Really Kakashi, it's no big deal. I'm not mad-"

"That not what I'm apologizing for, Anko," he said bluntly.

She tilted her head and eyed the Copy Ninja.

"Then what for?" she inquiried, still not following him.

He cleared his throat, and cast his eye down to the ground, a long second passing between them.

"I'm sorry it was just once."

"Oh," Anko offered, nodding slowly as she processed his line.

Kakashi watched in defeat as she turned away from him, and placed her key into the door, realizing she was in no mood to entertain the forgiveness he was seeking. Recognzing when to give up, he spun on his heels, and started walking in the direction of his apartment.

He only made it four paces before he heard the creak of a door opening, and a familiar voice.

"Kakashi!" Anko shouted.

He looked back to the woman.

"I know it's been awhile, but would you like to come in?" she asked coyly.

He saw a grin creeping onto Anko's face.

"If you do, I promise I won't forget this time," she said with a laugh.

Before he knew it, his feet were taking him back toward the building he just slinked away from. 


End file.
